


Where Have You Been?

by soulpicnic



Category: Glee
Genre: F/F, brittana
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-09
Updated: 2013-07-09
Packaged: 2017-12-17 14:53:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,085
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/868804
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/soulpicnic/pseuds/soulpicnic
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>AU in which Santana and Brittany are in college and trapped in an elevator :)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Where Have You Been?

**Author's Note:**

> Previously uploaded on FF.net :)

**Tuesday, Sept. 18 2012, 9:47 PM**

"Oh my God," Santana blinked. There was a jolt and the elevator she was riding in had just stopped. She turned her head around to the only other person inside it. "Did this thing...?"

"Um," the blonde girl gulped. She was standing on the other corner of the elevator, and just like Santana, she had her hand on the bar that was attached to the wall. That was quite a jolt and they had to keep their balance. "It just stopped, yeah."

"Oh my God," Santana repeated. Her eyes were wide and her breaths were short. She walked two steps towards the elevator panel and pressed the red button. There was a picture of a bell next to it and, supposedly, it would connect you with the emergency operator. "Hello?" Santana said, but nobody answered. "Hello? Anybody? Fucking answer me, please!"

"I don't think it's working," the blonde pointed out the obvious after watching Santana bang on the speaker and yell all sorts of dirty words for about a full minute.

Santana rolled her eyes. "Ya think?"

"I do," the blonde nodded seriously. "Sometimes even harder than most people 'cause they understand things faster than me."

Santana looked at her like she had two heads attached to her shoulder. Is this girl for real?

"What?" asked the blonde. She brought a hand and felt around her face. "Is there something on my face?"

"Whatever," Santana rolled her eyes. She stepped in front of the door and started banging again. "Help! Anybody!"

 

oOoOo

**Tuesday, Sept 18 2012, 10:01 PM**

"Blondie," called Santana to the other girl who was, at the moment, according to Santana, doing acrobatics inside the stuck elevator.

The woman smiled at her. "Brittany."

"Fine. _Brittany._ Could you not?" growled Santana. She was sitting on the floor with her legs pulled into her chest, completely exhausted. Completely overwhelmed by the feeling that they were about to be found dead come morning.

"What?" the blonde looked at the other elevator occupant confused. All she did was stretch. "I was stretching," said Brittany, and when she realized that her arms were still up in the air, she added, "I mean, I _am_ stretching."

"Well, stretch later. You're rocking the whole elevator."

The woman chuckled and lowered her arms. "I don't think that's me. I didn't even move my leg or anything," a pause. "Maybe—"

"No, please," Santana covered both her ears. Her eyes shut tight. "Stop talking. I don't wanna hear about some friggin' cables snapping, or about how the elevator's going to crash 8 floors down or anything else like that."

"But," Brittany tilted her head. "I wasn't going to. Besides, you just said it yourse—"

"Just shut up," Santana held up a hand. "Please, shut up."

"Okay," Brittany agreed. She carefully leaned her back on the wall and slid down until she was sitting on the floor. She watched as Santana, with her hands covering her face, visibly regulated her breathing— kind of like a Yoga technique on a DVD she had at home.

She could hear Santana's panic. The girl was uttering under her breath, over and over again, _"fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck!"_ and Brittany wondered for a bit if she should scoot over and give the girl a hug, or maybe squeeze her hand or something, but she decided not to. It didn't look like the dark-haired girl would appreciate the gesture.

"It'll be okay, you know?" she tried to offer.

Santana shook her head. "You don't know that."

"And you don't know if it's _not_ gonna be okay," Brittany shrugged. "So why should we believe that?"

 

oOoOo

**Tuesday, Sept. 18 2012, 10:19PM**

"I like dolphins," Brittany spoke suddenly and Santana was pulled out of her daze. She was still busy looking out for ways to get out of the elevator, and so far... no luck. She had been persistently trying to get reception with her phone. Someone told her once that if you hold your phone close to your chest— well, okay, boobs— it would receive signals easier. So she did... and felt stupid about 30 seconds after.

"I also love unicorns. What's your favorite animal?" Brittany asked, not even bothered with the way Santana was silently scowling at her.

"Are you serious?" Santana scrunched her face, still holding her phone as high as she could to get a signal. "What are you? A third grader?"

"It's just a question," said Brittany with a shrug. "I thought we could... you know... talk and kill time."

"Look, Blondie—"

"It's Brittany."

"Fine. Look, Brittany. I'm not in the mood to talk," Santana rubbed her face with a hands and lowered the other one that was holding her phone. "In case you haven't noticed, we're stuck in an elevator at," she looked at her wristwatch, "10:20 at night."

"I noticed," Brittany nodded. "But we're here and there's nothing we can do about it, is there?"

Santana huffed and Brittany knew she was right.

"So," Brittany continued. "Favorite animal?"

Santana didn't answer. Instead, she put her cellphone back into her jeans pocket, took out a thick book out of her bag and started (well, okay, she pretended to start) reading. She knew it was ridiculous and Brittany could see right through her lie because the lights had dimmed when the elevator stopped, but she wasn't about to join whatever conversation it was the blonde was trying to start.

But since she was there...

"Try your phone," Santana ordered the blonde girl, looking up briefly from her book.

The other girl reached into her back pocket and pulled out her cellphone. "Sorry," she showed Santana the phone screen with an apologetic smile after looking at it a few seconds. "I got nothing."

 

oOoOo

**Tuesday, Sept. 18 2012, 10:32 PM**

_"You don't know if it's **not** gonna be okay,"_ Brittany had told her and Santana thought it was funny that hearing Brittany say those words out loud managed to make her feel so at ease; even though just under an hour ago she was ready to die, recalling all the things in life that she had never got to do. Like ride a roller coaster with her eyes open, actually play something else other than Tennis on her Wii, or maybe call up her parents and abuela and see if they had changed her mind... You know? Those sorts of things. But now, she was actually okay with being trapped in a tight space, in the middle of the night, with a stranger— whom, she might add, was really nice to look at.

Santana was having a hard time not to look at the other girl sitting across the room. Brittany, even in dim light, sort of glowed. Like she had her own source of light shining from behind her. Her eyes were blue, and her skin was fair. Her hair was a lovely shade of blonde tied up in a bun, but Brittany took the hairband off and redid her hair earlier and Santana couldn't stop herself from admiring how soft and flowey it had looked.

Luckily, she had that big book covering more than half her face, so she could hide behind it as she stared at her companion. She felt like she'd seen her somewhere— even heard her voice. But she couldn't really find that piece of memory to tie it up together. Besides, _really?_ She didn't think she would've forgotten a beautiful girl like that.

She watched as Brittany started to take out everything from her wallet and line them up on the floor in front of her. A few coins, some cards (probably her IDs and credit cards), a couple of photos, a bunch of folded dollar bills and some receipts. Fifteen seconds later, Brittany was busy putting them back in with such care that her eyebrows were furrowed and she was doing this pout with her lips when she realized that she had refolded the dollar bills that she had just smoothed out.

 _Oh come on,_ Santana's brain yelled in frustration. She thought it was too unfair for the universe to trap her a in stuck elevator with a pretty girl— and now she had to be cute too?

_Ugh, I need a distraction._

 

oOoOo

**Tuesday, Sept. 18 2012, 10:38 PM**

Brittany was bored.

Unlike Santana, she didn't have anything with her when she came downstairs. Just her phone, which she had put to sleep to conserve the battery, and her wallet which she had been organizing, and reorganizing, for the past 30 minutes.

She looked at the opposite side of the elevator. Santana (that was the name written on the gym bag next to the girl) was still busy not talking to her, pretending to be engrossed in the book she was reading.

Oh, yeah. Brittany totally knew Santana wasn't really reading. Yes, her eyes were looking at the pages and her lips were moving like they were spelling out the words (which was totally cute, by the way), but the intervals between each syllable sometimes got too long and too random. When Santana started to unconsciously move her head, Brittany knew she was actually singing.

Silently.

Kind of rude, really.

Brittany sighed and rested her head back. She could feel the monster in her stomach scraping on the walls, begging for food. She had been studying in the library for her midterms since this morning and had absolutely nothing to eat, barring a strip of gum that she found in her backpack.

Speaking of her backpack... Brittany gasped and palmed her forehead. She just realized that it was still in the library. She thought her trip to the vending room would just be a quick one and left it there. She had done it before, just like everybody else, and she definitely didn't think she would be stuck in an elevatore before leaving her bag behind.

She sighed. She really hoped nobody would want to steal an ugly backpack that she had owned since 16. It was old and totally worn out, but it handled her books just fine. Plus, it made her feel like she was that much closer to home.

Brittany opened her wallet again. She pulled out some dollar bills and smoothed them out, using the cold hard floor as the base. Who knows, maybe the elevator was going to work again soon. She knew how picky the vending machines downstairs are. One time, she had to stay hungry all day in the library because the vending machine wouldn't take her money.

The monster in her stomach growled and Brittany put a hand over her shirt as if it would calm down her hunger. _A hot, steaming cup of noodles would be soooo good right now,_ she thought.

She lowered her head and looked at Santana through her eyelashes. Brittany really hoped the other girl didn't hear her stomach. It was really embarrassing to have your empty stomach yell at you in front of other people.

Santana was busy looking for something in her bag when Brittany stole that glance, so the blonde girl came to the conclusion that she was safe. Santana didn't hear that mortifying noise.

Although, a part of her wished she had— maybe then they would start talking.

Brittany was back to dragging the heel of her had across her dollar bills when something bounced off her head and dropped onto the floor. It was a fruit bar.

She picked it up and looked towards the ceiling in confusion. Did God just actually send her food from above?

"Sorry," Brittany heard a voice from across the room. It was Santana. "I have really bad aim."

Brittany looked at Santana, then at the unopened snack in her hands. "For me?"

"Yeah," Santana said. "You sound like you need it."

Brittany could feel her face getting hotter by the second from embarrassment. "Thank you," she said, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. Turned out Santana wasn't that bad at all. "I was really hungry," she said honestly with that pout that Santana was having a hard time to fight.

"Hm," Santana finally gave her half a smile. "I bet."

 

oOoOo

**Tuesday, Sept. 18 2012, 11:14 PM**

"Tigers."

"What?" Brittany looked up.

Santana fixed her position and sat Indian style with her back against the wall. "My favorite animal. Tigers."

"Oh," mouthed Brittany before sporting a grin on her face. She was totally excited about having someone to talk to and pass the time together— in a dead elevator. "Awesome. I like them too. I mean, I like cats and cats are like... tiny tigers."

Santana smiled at Brittany's ramble. _Whatever,_ she thought. _There's no harm in talking to a cute girl in an elevator, right? Besides, I'd die out of of boredom if I didn't._

"I'm Santana," she lifted a hand, making a small enough wave with it.

"Hi," Brittany smiled back and for the first time, under the very dim light, Santana noticed how sweet her smile was. "I kind of already knew what your name is."

Santana narrowed her eyes. "Should I be afraid? Are you, like, a stalker or something?"

"No, no," Brittany waved her hand and shook her head in panic. "It's written on your bag, see?" she pointed at the red, white and black mini-duffle bag next to Santana, and the other girl turned her head to look at it.

"Oh," Santana exhaled. "OK, good. I'd really hate it if you're, like... one of the crazies."

"The crazies?"

"Yeah. Some guys just can't take a hint. I mean, you're hot. You must know what I'm talking about. I bet they flock to y—" Santana stopped herself from saying anything more. She didn't even know why, or how she had let that come out of her mouth. Did she seriously just told a stranger that she was hot? Just because she's a lesbian, didn't mean every other girl is a lesbian too. "Um... Nevermind. Sorry."

"It's okay," Brittany tilted her head and smirked. "You're not so bad yourself, Santana."

Santana cleared her throat. "Uh, so you go to this school?"

"Yep," Brittany nodded. "Cinema Studies."

"That's a cool major," Santana said.

"It's a lot of hard work too," Brittany huffed. "I mean, I know college is supposed to be hard, but I never thought I'd be this exhausted."

"Tell me about it," Santana patted her bag and Brittany took notice of how packed it was. Other than the thick book she saw Santana was holding earlier, there were 2 other thick ones. Not as big as the first, but still she could only imagine how tiresome it must be for Santana to carry that bag around every day.

"So, you wanna be a lawyer?"

"What? How did you know I'm studying law?"

Brittany jerked her chin, gesturing to the book Santana was holding on her lap. "That's a super thick book."

Santana looked down, realizing that the book she pretended to be reading was one of her textbooks. "Oh. Yeah," she clicked her tongue. "I'd be happy to burn this book once I pass the class."

"You don't like law?"

"Honestly?" Santana ran her fingers through her dark, luscious hair. "I believe in justice more than I believe in law."

"That's..."

"I know it sounds weird," Santana quickly added. "But believe me, they're two different things."

"That's not weird at all," Brittany looked straight into Santana's brown eyes. "They are different. And it sucks that the law doesn't always go with justice."

Santana blinked. "You get it?"

"Of course I do."

"Not a lot of people do."

"Well, not a lot of people think like me."

Santana smiled sadly, then looked down to play with her fingers. "I wish they do."

 

oOoOo

**Wednesday, Sept. 19 2012, 12:38 AM**

"So there I was, auditioning with an Amy Winehouse song, and I didn't get the part!" Santana exasperatedly waved her arms around, telling an old story of her Glee Club days. Brittany turned out to be a lot of fun to talk to. She knew it was very out of character of her to be telling a stranger practically all about her life story, but she really couldn't have picked a better companion. There was something about the other girl that made her feel comfortable— even if not too long ago she was rolling her eyes at her.

Never again would she ever be trapped in an elevator if it weren't with Brittany.

...Not that she wanted to be in a stuck elevator ever again.

"Crazy!" Brittany's eyes widened. "Amy Winehouse songs are awesome!"

"That's what I said to my teacher!"

Brittany smirked. "Well, maybe you just weren't good enough."

Santana's eyes widened and pulled away. "Excuse me? You think I wasn't good enough?"

"Well, I have no way to tell if you were," Brittany shrugged.

"I will have you know, _Brittany,_ that I was born to shine."

"That's what you said," Brittany smirked again. Santana was too easy. "Maybe you should prove it to me."

"Alright, maybe I will," Santana crossed her arms.

"Fine."

"Fine."

Brittany raised an eyebrow. "Are you going to be my echo for the rest of the night or are you going to sing?"

Santana shot her a glare for that— but she sat up anyway and, after clearing her throat and taking a few deep breaths, started singing.

 _"For you I was a flame,"_ she sang the first few notes and Brittany couldn't believe how good Santana sounded.

 _"Love, is a losing game,"_ Santana continued. _"Five storey fire as it came, love is a losing game."_

Brittany could feel goosebumps on the back of her neck, listening to the girl singing in front of her. _So beautiful,_ she thought. Santana was raspy and soulful and completely out of this world. Listening to her was like... touching a rainbow and taking a piece of it home in your heart.

Brittany listened as her new friend continued her singing and when Santana got to the part where she was saying she was battling blind and love is a fate resigned, Brittany lost it.

There was too much truth in those words, in Santana's voice, that she believed that the darker girl had really given up on love. And she didn't know why but she couldn't shake away the want— the need— to prove to her that she was wrong. That love exists, and even though they had just known each other for less than two hours, Santana just... took her breath away.

So she reached with her hands to cup the other girl's face and kissed her.

Meanwhile, to say that she was surprised didn't even cut it for Santana. But Brittany was so gentle and soft and her mind went from, _"what the hell?!"_ to,  _"I don't think this is a good idea,"_ to,  _"okay, maybe it is."_

"Brittany," Santana's eyes fluttered open and whispered in the middle of their (long) kiss. "What are you doing?"

"Kissing you," Brittany sighed, but didn't let go of her hold. "What are _you_ doing?"

Santana closed her eyes again. "Kissing you back."

Brittany smiled and continued her attack.

 

oOoOo

**Wednesday, Sept. 19 2012, 01:30 AM**

"Do you think they'd get us out anytime soon?"

"I don't know," Brittany answered honestly.

Santana leaned her back against the wall, and her head onto Brittany's shoulder. God bless their height difference. "I kinda hope they won't now. At least... not anytime soon."

Brittany smiled and tilted her head so that it would land on top of Santana's. "Me neither."

Silence filled the room and both girls were completely content with the peacefulness surrounding them. Santana lazily ran her fingers up and down Brittany's forearm because, at the moment, that was the only thing she could do. That make out session was great (and definitely too quick to end), but it didn't seem like a good idea at the moment. So they stopped themselves before they got too far. The thought of gettin' it on in a stuck elevator was hot and all, but they really should be focusing on doing that when they finally got out of the confinement.

"Who hurt you, Santana?" Brittany caught Santana's hand and held it in her own.

Santana let out a long sigh. "Everyone."

"Everyone?"

"My mom, my dad," Santana took a deep breath. "My grandmother."

"What happened?"

Santana scoffed. "I came out. And according to them I turned gay and betrayed God," a pause. "And now I don't have a family."

"They threw you out?" Brittany gently asked and when she felt Santana nod, she squeezed her hand. "I'm sorry."

"It's okay. I'm almost over it, I think."

"Except you're not, are you?"

There was a 1, 2 seconds of delay before Santana shook her head. "No... I send them cards for their birthdays, hoping I'd get to spend the next Christmases at home. But the invitations never came, and it just... It just hurts so bad."

The hand in Brittany's twitched to get away but Brittany was faster. She held it tight and gave it another squeeze. "You can cry if you want," she said. "I won't tell."

"N'ah," Santana shook her head and laughed. "Believe me, I'm all cried out. Sorry, by the way."

Brittany furrowed her eyebrows. "For what?"

"We just met, literally, and I'm dumping that on you."

Brittany smiled even though Santana couldn't see it. "I asked you, remember? I wanted to know. Actually, I didn't think you were gonna answer at all."

"To be honest I don't think I would've if it were anybody else," Santana chuckled. "What about you? What's your story?"

"Me? I don't have much to tell."

"Oh, come on," Santana pulled away and sat Indian style facing the other girl. "Tell me."

"Fine. But I'm warning you I'm super boring," Brittany looked at Santana pointedly in case she wanted to cancel the request, but there was no indications of reassignment. So she started to talk again. "But like... I don't even know what to tell you."

"Um... okay," Santana gave her an apologetic look. "I'm sorry to ask you this, and you don't even have to answer if you don't want to. But... are you... gay?"

Brittany smiled softly. "Why is that important?"

"Shit," Santana muttered. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to offend you."

Brittany chuckled. "You didn't offend me. I was just asking a question. Truth is, sometimes I don't get why people like labels so much. I mean, I get that for some people it makes things easier for themselves, but most of the time, bad people use those labels for... you know, bad things," Brittany shrugged and Santana couldn't agree more. "People tell me I'm bi. But to me... I'm just Brittany," the blonde girl stated. "I love. As simple as that."

 _There must be an award for the most beautiful mind ever,_ Santana thought, and she made a mental note to make Brittany a custom made award with a Unicorn statue. If we ever get out of that stupid elevator, that is.

"Tell me more," Santana said after finally putting aside her fascination. "What about... high school?"

"High school. Okay," the blonde girl nodded. "Let's see... I danced—"

"Remind me to watch you dance sometime," Santana cut her off.

"I will," Brittany smiled. "What else... Oh, I was voted Senior Class President. And I was a cheerleader."

Santana laughed out loud and Brittany took offense. "What?"

"Nothing! I'm sorry," Santana put a hand over her mouth. "It's just that... I kinda guessed that about you."

Brittany narrowed her eyes. "Because I'm blonde and, let me guess, dumb?"

"What?" Santana's eyes widened. "No! Not because of that! I mean, yes to the blonde part, but not the other. You just seem like you're a people person, you know? And I just... when you got in the elevator on the 9th floor, I just," Santana could feel her whole face redden— even though she didn't think Hispanic people blush. "The first thing I noticed was that you're really tall. And, uh, your legs..."

Brittany chuckled. "Aww. You even remember what floor I got in."

Santana slapped her on the arm. "Shut up."

"Ow," Brittany rubbed the spot on her arm. "You're mean."

Santana sighed. "Has anyone ever told you that that pout of yours is really cute?"

"No," Brittany shook her head. She was beaming because of that simple question and Santana could feel butterflies looking for freedom inside her stomach. "Not until just now."

"Well, now you know," Santana blushed again and she knew she had to divert the conversation. "But whatever. Tell me more."

Brittany let her eyes stay on Santana's blushing face for a few seconds before answering. "I have a kid sister. We're like, 8 years apart."

"Wow, that's a lot of years."

"Yeah," Brittany agreed. "She was a happy accident. I love her."

"That's kind of cool. Wish I had a sibling to play with."

"Ah, but back when I still live at home, I had to babysit all the time," Brittany recalled. "Bet you got to hang out with your friends all the time."

"Not really, no," Santana scrunched her face. "Back then I was a bitch— still am, actually— so everybody kind of... avoided me. I mean, I had a few friends on the squad but we all knew it was for show. Social status and stuff."

Brittany eyed here suspiciously. "Did you just say 'squad'?"

"Oh! Yeah, I did," Santana smiled. She pulled her red and white bag over to her side and patted it with pride. "Co-Captain of the Cheerios. The best high school cheerleading squad in the country. Well, I guess it used to be. Our old coach retired and last I heard, she was busy making her way up to congress... again."

"Oh my God!" shouted Brittany suddenly. "I remember you! 2009 National Championship in Orlando!"

Santana tried hard to pull out said memory from the corners of her mind and when she did, she came to a realization. "Oh my God," she breathed out.

"Mm-hmm," Brittany smiled wider. "I remember. We were the youngest in our teams and we snuck out of the green room and somehow watched half of the competition together."

"Oh my God, I was so nervous that day."

"Most nerve-racking day of my life!"

"You're kidding right?"

Brittany looked at Santana in confusion. "What?"

"You were _so_ not nervous!"

"I was! I felt like I was in a roller coaster without a seatbelt and it was about to flip upside down!"

"Uh-uh," Santana shook her head persistently. "You were so relaxed. You told me—" Santana stopped mid sentence and as she realized what Brittany had told her 3 years ago, she felt herself melt into a puddle.

 

* * *

_"It'll be okay, you know?" 16-year-old Brittany, in her gold and purple cheerleading out fit, said to a girl sitting next to her. They, separately, had found empty seats in the audience and by chance, they ended up watching their competitions fiercely go through their routines side by side._

_They gave each other small smiles and a 'hi', but that was it. Their coaches had had them watch videos of every single squad out there to memorize every routine and take notes of the who's who in each team. When they saw each other's faces, they immediately knew that they were each other's toughest competition. The youngest in their squads. The secret weapons._

_The girl shook her head. She had both her hands in the kangaroo pockets of her red team varsity jacket and her eyes on the stage. "You don't know that."_

_"And you don't know if it's not gonna be okay," Brittany whispered as loud as she could to not bother the surrounding crowd. "So why should we believe that?"_

* * *

 

"You know... your words?" Santana swallowed before she continued with a voice so soft, that Brittany almost had to lean over to hear her. "They got me through everything."

"My words?"

"Yeah. Just like earlier, you told me I didn't know if anything wasn't gonna be okay," Santana checked to see if Brittany remembered, and the blonde girl nodded. "And you didn't know this at the time but the second I heard you say that while we were watching all the other teams, I could feel myself relax to that small chance of doing everything right, and winning."

Brittany smiled. "And you did. My team came in second."

"Yeah, but you did your jumps perfectly. Your team came in second because one of the guys in the back messed up. I saw you. You were amazing."

Brittany blushed and tucked a loose strand of hair to the back of her ear. "Thanks."

"No," Santana shook her head. "Thank you. You don't know how much they mean to me. I went through my own personal kind of hell and your words somehow stuck with me and, even though I forgot why it had, even though I couldn't put the pieces together, I carry them in my heart."

Santana took a deep breath and looked down. "You know how I told you that I was a bitch in high school?"

Brittany nodded.

"Well... somewhere along the way I realized that it was because I was angry with the whole world. I didn't know back then that being gay is alright. But I kept hearing those words— your words— that it was going to be okay. So I came out to my parents. At the time, I already knew they wouldn't have anything good to say about it. Somewhere in the back of my mind I kind of guessed they were going to kick me out— being super conservative and all— so when they did, I wasn't surprised. Didn't mean it didn't hurt though."

Brittany scooted closer and reached for Santana's arm just to let her know that she was there.

"I was that close to graduating high school, so I wasn't going to leave town yet. My best friend— her name is Quinn. I think you'd totally get along, by the way— offered me to live with her and her mom. They wouldn't let me pay rent, but I just had to help somehow. My family was... _privileged_... so I got money in my bank account. I cleared it out and I helped with at least paying for the groceries or takeouts. I graduated with the rest of my class, and while everybody was busy taking pictures with their moms and dads, I was packing up my life into a suitcase to come here. I just thought, what the hell, you know? I didn't know if it's not gonna be okay so why not risk it?"

Santana could feel Brittany's thumb rubbing comfort on her arm and she took another deep breath. "Looking back, I was okay about not having my parents see me walk that stage. I was more worried about the future— what I was gonna do, where I was gonna stay, where I would get money and all that."

"And yet here you are. Studying law in NYU."

Santana nodded. "And yet here I am."

"What did you do?"

"I'm actually about two semesters behind from you, I think," Santana smiled. "I spent a lot of time figuring out some stuff. I mean, I had money, but not _that_ much money. I worked odd jobs to save up for college. I'd take shifts at this diner that's right by my apartment building, walk dogs... I was even a cleaning lady at Flushing Mall. I'd work day and night and be all miserable, thinking it would never be okay. But I— well, I guess _you_ kept telling me that it was gonna be okay and things would get better, and I believed it."

The light flickered and for a second both girls' hearts skipped for the thought of being saved. They both went quiet, ears perked up for a chance of hearing someone doing something (anything) to save them. But after that moment of silence, they realized that the flickering light was just that: a flickering light. So, Santana continued her story.

"I started singing for money in the park on weekends," Santana smiled at the memory. "It wasn't even on purpose. The first time I did it, I was actually singing along for fun to this saxophone player who was actually playing for cash. At the end of the day, he collected his money and gave half of it to me. He said he was making double than he usually did."

"Wow," said Brittany. "And that's how you're paying for school?"

Santana smiled shyly. "Nope," she popped the 'p' and shook her head. "One day, at the park, this guy in a suit waited until we finished playing and pulled me aside. Turns out he works in a recording studio and wanted to offer me a job. Long story short, he gave me a card, I gave him a call, I went to record backing vocals on a demo song, and he got me a contract."

"What?!" Brittany beamed. Her eyes were so big that Santana thought she could get lost in those baby blues. "Get out of here!"

"It's just as a backup singer for random bands..." explained Santana quietly. She was afraid that Brittany misunderstood her.

"Yeah, but still! That is so awesome, Santana. You can't even imagine how happy I am for you right now."

Santana smiled at the fact that Brittany's excitement didn't even waver after she told her that the gig wasn't even for a solo recording. "You know I couldn't have done it without you, right?"

Brittany shook her head furiously and grabbed both of Santana's hands. "No, that's all you! You did this!"

"Britt, stop," Santana couldn't help but laugh at Brittany's excitement over her achievement. If only other people (and by other people, she meant her family) had been there with her through it all.

"You're amazing, Santana. You're just so amazing," Brittany told the girl sitting in front of her with a soft, but firm voice, like she was afraid Santana wasn't going to believe her. It seemed like she couldn't stop being proud for Santana— which was funny because, officially, they had just known each other for a few hours. Santana's journey blew her mind away.

"I know we both agreed to stop," she scooted even closer to Santana and the other girl could feel her heart practically pounding to get out of her chest. "But can I kiss you again?"

Santana watched as Brittany flicked her blue eyes from her own brown ones, to her lips, then to her eyes again, and could only nod before she felt Brittany's lips on her. Again.

It was soft. So much softer than their first kiss and full of... something that she couldn't quite grasp yet. It was like, _ugh,_ she couldn't even describe it without saying the L-word.

She felt loved.

_Loved._

And she hadn't felt it in a long time that she started to cry.

"Don't be sad, Santana," Brittany wrapped her arms around her.

"No, it's okay," Santana sniffled. "These are good tears. Happy ones."

 

oOoOo

**Wednesday, Sept. 19 2012, 04:47 AM**

"What time is it?" Santana croaked groggily as she opened her eyes. They had both fallen asleep sitting on the cold floor. The only thing that kept her warm was her hoodie. Oh, and the beautiful blonde who had her arms around her.

"Uh," Brittany wiped the sleep out of her eyes and pushed a button on her phone to wake it up. "Almost 5."

"Holy shit," Santana closed her eyes. "We've been in here for more than 6 hours? I got a class at 8!"

Brittany ran a hand through her blonde hair. "I'm starving."

Santana immediately rummaged through her bag to find another fruit bar, and sighed heavily when she couldn't find one. "Sorry," Santana turned her head around. "I could swear there was another one in there."

"It's okay," smiled Brittany. "It's Bobst. We couldn't be stuck here for much longer. It's practically morning. Once they realized one of the elevators isn't working, they're gonna fix it and we'll be out in no time."

Brittany's stomach grumbled loudly and she chuckled. "That is, if I don't die out of hunger first."

 _There she goes again,_ thought Santana. _Just when I thought I was done admiring her, she had to laugh and be positive about everything._

"We need to get you something to eat," Santana sighed. "I wish we could just open the door."

As if a lightbulb had magically appeared out of nowhere and lit up above her head, Brittany stood up abruptly. "That's it! Come on," she pulled Santana up and towards the elevator door. "We _can_ just open the door. I saw it in movies!"

"Brittany," Santana huffed. She really wasn't sure about this plan. "Even if we could get the door to open, what's next? We don't even know if we can reach a floor."

"But Santana," Brittany smirked. "You don't even know if we can't reach a floor."

She was going to roll her eyes at that smirk, but there was a twinkle in Brittany's eyes that made Santana understood what she was saying. Brittany was telling her the same thing that she had been telling her all those years:

_Don't give up._

Without a word, Santana slipped the tips of her fingers between the two doors and pulled as hard as she could. Brittany snuck a grin before doing the same thing, but pulling the other way.

Finally, after a few grunts, the doors began to separate and it fueled them to pull even harder. They didn't stop until they got them half opened. Brittany was right. They weren't too far off from the 7th floor. All they had to do was jump down a couple of feet.

"Oh my God," Santana panted. "Why didn't we think of that sooner? I don't know whether I should laugh or cry now."

Brittany hummed. "Definitely laugh," she said jokingly, but the way she let out a long exhale couldn't hide the fact that she was just as worried as Santana when they were still trapped. She was just better in hiding it.

And Santana noticed it. The whole situation was like 2009 all over again.

"Come on," Santana walked to the back of the elevator and grabbed her things. "We can take the stairs. The Study Area is open 24 hours. There's gotta be someone there. We can ask them to get your backpack."

Santana then mimicked Brittany, who was already sitting with her feet dangling from the edge of the elevator. She dropped her bag onto the carpeted floor and got ready to jump. But before she could actually join her bag in freedom, Brittany grabbed her wrist.

"I... wait," said Brittany quietly. She could feel her palm getting sweaty and her ears getting as red as her face.

Santana scrunched her face. "What's the matter? Don't you want to get out?"

"I do, I just..." Brittany trailed off. She looked like she was deep in thought so Santana did nothing but eye the blonde girl carefully. "You don't understand. I looked everywhere for you that day after the trophy ceremony, but you were already gone. I wanted to know your name, where you went to school and everything. I couldn't stop thinking about you for a long time since then," Brittany bashfully admitted. "But then it all became a blur and I couldn't even remember what you looked like. And now you're here... 3.5 years later. I feel like this was just a dream and if we jumped out of this elevator, if we got out of it, I'd wake up and lose you again."

Santana recalled the day Brittany was talking about. She had to jump straight into the bus because her coach wasn't big on wasting time. The woman practically timed everything with her stopwatch, including how much time they had to celebrate before going back to reality, a.k.a. the McKinley High School back in Lima, Ohio.

"You were looking for me?"

Brittany took a pause and looked at Santana straight in the eyes. She nodded. "When your team won, you had this big smile on your face. So different from when we met the first time— you were nervous, and you just looked like you had the weight of the world on your shoulder," both of them smiled at the memory. "I wanted to tell you that you're so much prettier when you're smiling. I wanted to tell you... to be happy."

"Brittany..." Santana could feel the fluttering butterflies in her stomach again. "That's really sweet. Thank you," she gave the blonde a kiss on her cheek.

"There's another thing," Brittany looked around the elevator one more time. "What if we... what if you... _ugh._  This was real, right?" Brittany met Santana's eyes. "You know, um... us trapped in the elevator?"

Santana was confused, but she kept her eyes locked on Brittany's and it wasn't long until she saw what the blonde girl was really talking about.

_Us trapped in the elevator. Us telling each other about ourselves. Us kissing. And us feeling something for each other._

"Brittany, look at me. See this?" Santana held up their hands. Neither could figure out when they had laced their fingers together but they both liked it. Their hands looked comfortable. Their hands looked like they'd been searching for something that would fit, and now they'd finally found each other. " _This_ is real. Even if we're jumping out there," she pointed at the floor beneath them, "we're going to jump together. I'm still gonna be there when we land. I'm not gonna disappear."

A pause.

"At least not without a phone number," Santana winked and Brittany chuckled.

But Brittany got what Santana was implying— that she was feeling the same way and she was willing to figure it out with her. But still, there were a lot at stake and two of those things were their hearts. What if they got broken and there weren't enough glue in the world to fix them?

"I just want us to be okay once we're... back to reality," said Brittany.

"You're so silly, Britt-Britt," Santana nudged the other girl's temple with her forehead and lingered there with a soft smile. "How do you know we're not gonna be okay?"

 


End file.
